Zombie Hugs
by Emrood
Summary: Well...she supposed there were other things they could bond over… Nothing else seemed as enticing, though. It brought him to life in a special way. Yes, it was a weird thing to have, but it was their thing, and she would have it no other way. [Oneshot]


Zombie Hugs

Her nose scrunched as the creatures on the screen (or what was left of them, anyway) hoarded about the lone soul who had decided to break from the team. It ever so slightly churned her stomach to think that the visuals before her were tickling her memory with thoughts of meat preparation and the like, uttering a silent prayer that such visions would not haunt her when her appetite caught up. Most movies in this category disgusted her rather than entertained; not that she couldn't enjoy them from time to time. Sometimes the films carried a decent story line, other times, it was the mood that fascinated her, but it wasn't often that she sought out the gory genre.

It was just so much harder to turn down the ferret's enthusiasm; his personal checklist demanded completion, and whenever a new one came out, it was another addition to his list. She was fairly certain he had seen everything, from the classics to the indie films to the main stream and alternate endings. Comics and video games galore. It was something he was confident in, a slice of useless knowledge he proudly pruned and tended to...even if he did it alone.

To watch any other kind of film was an enjoyable activity between two best friends, from comedy to horror, they had covered them all. But when it came to the undead, Buddy liked to put things into perspective throughout the film, a habit Darnell found frustrating as the dog always had illogical solutions for the wrong kind of zombie. Virus zombies and voodoo zombies were two totally different kinds of zombie, and genetically modified zombies were a special kind of infected –sure they were undead, but their mutations made them even harder to take down. Not every zombie could just be run over with a truck. Besides, would he have the heart to do so if he knew who that zombie had once been? Take for instance...his own Auntie Uncle?

Buddy would huff grumpily at such a scenario, waving it away as nonsense until something on the screen would distract his heart into a pulsing drop. And where Darnell would be eager to discuss the film for days, Buddy often waited for his mind to forget what he had seen.

She adjusted her head along his side, the cramp of the awkward angle straining her neck. He leaned further into the couch, pressing his elbow into the armrest as his cheek smashed into his palm. Comfortable, but it could be better. The screams of terror were casually ignored as she tugged his free arm over her shoulder and along her rib cage, curling her paw along his own with a small smile.

Oddly enough it was because of a movie like this that she had found herself on that very couch a few weeks back, genuinely interested in a film Darnell had just managed to get in his possession. Buddy had passed on it; he had made a bet with Handsome Joe and was off to collect his winnings, leaving Darnell with some free time and look of disappointment until she had swiped the package from his grip, giving the cover a once over. She had remembered seeing commercials for it on TV, but with her busiest of schedules and all, finding time had become wishful thinking.

Her recognition of said film perked his interest, curious if she wanted to watch it along with him, and so, once the restaurant was shut for the night, Muncie had plopped herself onto the worn yellow couch, hoping her weary exhaustion wouldn't sabotage her for the end of the film. But once the lights were shut and the film began, she couldn't help but remain intrigued by the characters...the style...the story. She had figured it would be a decent film from the snippets she had seen during the commercials, but, as expected, the film provided so much more, from backstory to intriguing cliffhangers, soundtrack and Foley galore. She often criticized souls who spoke during films (especially ones she hadn't seen before), but the light mutters under her breath seemed to win the ferret's attention, responding back in his own quiet way as he, too, analyzed the world they had engrossed themselves with, a similar wavelength fluctuating between them.

He spied her in the dark with a small smile, his eyes holding a rare appreciation for someone who understood his strange and twisted pastime, and it was only when she pulled away from the credits for his lack of an answer that she realized he had been admiring her, his own eyes darting back onto the screen...unsure of what her question had been. His cheeks had awkwardly flushed, a rather obvious glow against his white fur, but she mentioned nothing of it, brushing the situation from her shoulders. Perhaps it was simply the position they were in...alone in the dark with a movie. No big deal. Once the lights were back on, everything felt comfortable again. A lengthy chat of the plot and a few yawns later, a bid goodnight.

But not before she had suggested they do something like this again sometime.

It had been the polite thing to say.

She hadn't expected him to actually take her offer so close to heart.

But when he did, his genuine excitement had caught her so off guard, she had found it an appealing get away from the every day stresses of life.

Any time he collected a new film, it was an instant movie night. A night of screams and gargled breathing and broken bones. A night of unfortunate subplots and dark themes. A night where the space on the couch grew less and less between them, first eased and comfortable, sloppy and sleepy...until one evening, he had plopped down with a bucket of popcorn, finding himself frozen in place when she rested her cheek along his shoulder, popping a few kernels into her mouth without second thought. She had grown accustomed to their movie nights and thought nothing of the action, though found him entirely quiet throughout the beginning half of the film.

It had been strange and unusual for the ferret to keep his analyzing thoughts to himself, even if they were just mutters. The two often communicated in broken phrases and half thought synopsis: hums and snorts and anything of the kind that suggested pieces to the larger puzzle being solved in place. After eating half of the popcorn bin, she had noticed he hadn't even touched it, though it remained plugged in his grip as though his life depended on it. Odd.

Her head had shifted ever so slightly, and his jaw moved back and away, preparing for her to adjust herself away from him, but she didn't. Instead, she focused on his breathing: unusually steady and paced and so very unnatural. It was the kind one did when focusing...or trying to remain calm. But movies like these didn't bother Darnell. At least, she didn't think so. He had always been perfectly fine when they had watched any of his other films, a typical grin adorning his beady little eyes, shameless and cheesy and heartfelt...cute, among other things.

She stared at the screen for a few minutes, quiet and still as her own thoughts squandered the plot line of the film, looping his familiar face...a face she had grown fond of...and a face that would not face her currently.

And it was then that she had realized there was something unspoken between them...something not yet figured out, and it was making him rather uncomfortable and nervous, as if the creatures of the film themselves were going to come for him. She eyed the floor in soft concern, the screech of the undead ringing in her ears, but such things didn't matter. She had lost her place within the scenes, the flashes of terror on the screen secondary to her current interests. Not important. And the subplot didn't seem as dire when she huffed at the scene, noting something or other on the survival instincts of the main character...all while claiming his paw in her own, and that was that. They never went back.

It wasn't the only thing they ever talked about, heavens, no. They had more in common than that. Cars and food and the average chats of two souls living in Grease Pit, but paranormal analytics always wound him up in a special way, and it was a way she was determined to seek out every so often. No, she wasn't as enthusiastic about these things like he was, but she didn't have to be. She was close enough, and it was all he could ever ask for...

His brow knit as he wiped the spill he had made, his handy rag soaking much of the fluids along the engine. His mind floated here and there as his hands worked in their automation, 'tuning up' a much more secondary reflex to the mind that housed his skill. It had been a few days since the last film he had watched with Muncie, story line still fresh in his head, scenes still puzzling together survival strategies. His thoughts argued among themselves, tail twitching ever so lightly as the rock music blasting on his left deafened him to the world surrounding. Distracted. Dazed. Vulnerable.

The ferret's heart leaped into his throat as the sudden grip on his chest wrenched him back, a snout pressed right against the open surface of his neck. He could feel the sharpest fangs of the bunch pushing along his jugular, the arms looped about him, strong and sturdy. Roughly two seconds passed before he was gently released, the muzzle nuzzling softly before a whisper, playful and teasing, "Zombie hug."

His paw clamped onto his chest, pressing the tension up toward his throat with a heavy heave, his brow shakily arching at her laughter. The pressure in his head had begun to slowly release as his paw slapped the radio, lowering the volume against her growing chuckles. It was only Muncie. Of course...who else would it have been? A weary smile curled along his face when her head lifted from her self embrace, pinching along his shoulder to alleviate the strain, "Geez, Muncie...just give me a heart attack, why don't ya?"

Wiping along her nose, the hound grinned, crossing her arms, "A _heart attack_? What good would you be in a survival group if fear got the best of ya? 'Sides, you were too distracted. Never heard me comin'. I thought you were supposed to be an expert on these things." she mocked as she leaned along the Rabble Rouser, peering into the engine. Brushing off his shirt, Darnell grabbed his soiled wrench from the nut it had been clinging onto, glancing around for a clean towel. There had been one around here somewhere. It had been right over...oh. Under his foot. Clean enough. "Well, I wouldn't say _expert_." he noted, casually wiping the motor grease as best he could, "I'm just all things knowledgeable on the subject."

Her eyes rolled playfully, "Modest, aren't we?"

A warm smile curled as he used the other side of the towel to finish off the job, gently settling the wrench back into his box. He said nothing for a moment, thoughts abuzz as his eyes darted to and fro, collecting his rag from the engine and tossing it into his maintenance basket. He'd have to wash those at some point. His paws reached out for the handle, pausing for a moment before he glanced over his shoulder, "I had a dream once that everyone I knew turned."

Brows knitting curiously, Muncie tilted her head, not quite sure if the phrase itself was a positive note or not. Knowing Darnell, there'd be some _awesome_ twist to it...but his eyes said otherwise. Something quietly haunted them as they drifted from her gaze to his work, troublesome and unforgiving.

"It was traumatic." he finished, shaking himself off before dragging the basket toward the garage door for later. The wicker scraped along the concrete before he lifted it, thumping it down a few feet further. His paws clapped off the job, turning back toward the truck where she waited for him, a soft head tilt adorning her, "Includin' me?"

"Pretty sure you fit into that category." he replied with a chuckle, reaching up toward his face, digits wiggling, "You had this...gut foam comin' out of your mouth and yellow eyes caked over."

Her nose scrunched at the imagery, snorting when he added, "It was not a good look for you."

"I'll bet." she huffed, gazing about the garage before her curiosity got the better of her, "...Did you put me down?"

The question surprised him in his tracks, thumb rubbing along his knuckles nervously before offering a tiny shrug, "Oh...I couldn't do that to you, Muncie..."

His shoulders lurched when she barked enthusiastically, waving off all sensitivities in the matter, "Sure you could! In that situation, I'm gone, and you're the one tryin' the survive. It's you or me, and I'm not comin' back." she reasoned, thumbing toward herself sternly, and his eyes lit in equal determination, a heavy furrow capping them.

"You don't know that!" he piped, parting his paws as if sectioning his options, "I could leave you someplace safe until the whole thing blows over with like an antidote or something. It's clearly going to be some form of virus, and like with all viruses, some folks will be immune. If an epidemic like that happens, doctors and scientists all over the world are going to be trying all kinds of things to make sure they can get some kind of control over it. At that point, it's only a matter of time."

"And what if it's too late?" she suggested, arms crossing once more.

"Never been a time where Buddy's missed his deadline." he answered casually to her stubbornness.

"And what if Buddy turns?"

"Guess I'm turning, too."

"What if you don't?"

"And I'm immune?" the ferret hummed curiously, rubbing along his chin. A simple grin. "Then it's guaranteed I'll get you guys an antidote. I'd figure something out." His answer held a kind of pride as if he had solved every detail imaginable, slowly shutting the hood of the truck with a click. Done for the night...at least for now.

"And what if somebody reads from the necro-"

"Nobody's gunna read outta that thing 'cus it's been done and you'd be stupid to try it." he huffed grumpily as his pointer stabbed into his palm with every word. He collected his mess from under the truck as the hound smirked, jolting her shoulder from the Rabble Rouser to gain her footing. "I dunno," she shrugged, "Buddy's pretty notorious for doin' stuff against better judgment."

Clipping his toolbox shut, Darnell shoved it onto the work table behind him, neatening up the area.

"It's a book you have to _read_." he uttered simply, ears twitching as she opened her mouth to battle the idea, but found all reasoning within his statement.

She rolled her eyes defeat, stepping about the stains on the floor, careful to keep her boots clean, "Alright, well, you got me there."

Pressing her side into the wooden table, she watched him type a few notes into his laptop log; efficient, even when distracted. A trait she appreciated. It was quiet between them for a few minutes, only the quick clicking of his quick digits smacking against the keyboard, pauses as his mind worked out the kinks, and heavy jabs as he deleted whole words or numbers. His beady eyes skimmed along the screen, humming lightly as he pouted, knuckles cupping his cheek as he hunched over the orders, "...That could work..."

His gaze lifted after a while, falling on Muncie as she seemed to be gazing at something off in the distance beyond the road, allowing him to finish what he had to prior to her visit. She understood the sanctity of work and respected the time he required to fulfill the job, and though he was well aware that her simply being there was distraction enough, he hardly minded. Her presence was always soothing when Buddy was away. Being the rather fidgety creature he was, the ferret often distracted himself with music or set the TV on some mind numbing channel to block out the overwhelming silence that haunted the garage.

His own echoing clanks could be a bit chilling in the dead of darkness. It was a fun fact best kept to himself...he could only imagine the earful of teasing he'd get should Buddy ever discover his superstitious doubts. His bro would always have his back...but he'd also make him suffer for the irony of it.

And for all the great things Darnell loved about his best friend, he'd rather not be back stabbed over something silly like Buddy making a mix tape of hoard screams and swapping it with his classic jams as a joke. No, thanks. He'd stay silent on the matter.

Smiling lightly, Darnell focused back on his work, soon to be finished anyway when the warmth suddenly chipped as Muncie murmured in a daydream, "An oasis for zombies...sounds nice. For them, anyway. While the world is in chaos, us zombies will be movin' on...meetin' new folk...startin' over."

The ferret frowned, shoulders lowering.

What the fart nugget was she talking about?

"Uh, no." he abruptly interrupted, eyes darting to his left, "Your minds would be fried like a short circuiting computer. Y'know, like rabies. There's no happy ending." His voice held a gruff note, as if she had personally tainted the universe untouched by mortal hands.

Blinking away from her daze, Muncie eyed him flatly. There was always a bright side to every negative situation, regardless of how ridiculous the concept was. She knew a thing or two about keeping her head up in a world of neck high water, even if no one else was aware of it. Having a stable head and a positive attitude was key to surviving any situation.

 _You're about to argue about zombies._

Her mind contemplated the thought sternly, knowing she wasn't entirely out of her element, but it was certainly something Darnell would flair up about. He was oddly passionate about these things, that specific little trait that was so uniquely him. A quirk she couldn't help but be grateful for. That essence of him that had brought their time together...Her brows knit for a moment before arching playfully, preparing herself for the worst.

Smoothly leaning her elbow onto the table, Muncie smirked and plunged into a path of no return, "Alright, then you're so smart, riddle me this. Zombies are called undead for a reason. If time is of the essence and the cure isn't reached, I'm gunna be functionin' pretty dang close to that dream of yours. Even if you manage me some of that cure, I'll just fall apart anyway. What then?"

The ferret had fallen back into his paperwork, but his ears were still perked, twitching with each word and resting evenly when she stopped, processing both wavelengths of information as best he could before choosing to focus on hers first. Apparently, work could wait. He waved his paw easily in a casual shrug, scratching along his chin, "No problem. I'll just build you some prosthetic parts. It can't be all that different than putting together a truck." He glanced over his shoulder at the Rabble Rouser with confidence, though slipped back to work when eyeing the look on her face.

The hound had genuinely squinted at the concept, rough and ragged as it was, "Sheesh, Fixit," she huffed, scuffing her heel along the concrete, "At that point just let me rest in peace. A zombie _cyborg_ is goin' into all kinds of crazy."

Poking a few lone keys, Darnell huffed grumpily, "Hey, at least I'm trying. Pretty sure most of my sanity would be gone in that kinda situation... –being immune while everyone I know turns, and I gotta figure out how to get the cure while you're off in happy zombie land with who knows what havin' a dang great time." He tapped a few numbers into his excel sheet, feeling slightly irritated over the unrealistic scenario, knowing that the unquestionable twist in his gut was stemming from some form of _jealousy_ –a theoretical fantasy with no face that managed to replace him in her world...His brows furrowed.

Now, he just felt stupid.

This was all silly theory nonsense talk, anyway.

Didn't mean he wasn't going to take it seriously, though.

"I dunno what's worse. Everyone getting sick...or being the only one who's not." he muttered, shutting the laptop down and gently closing it. The visions of his loved ones transformed into horrifying creatures blasted through his mind, feeling a meek chill down his spine, regardless of how often he had seen these images. "Anyway, I'm gettin' this déjà vu feeling with the dream I had and it's creepin' me out, so..."

Pushing himself off the table, he offered her a small smile and his full attention, unable to shake the uncomfortable feeling lingering under his skin just yet, but it would pass. It always did. Dreams were just so...real. At least, they felt that way to him. He was well aware all concepts of such fascinations were nonsense, but still. They didn't haunt his mind any less when he least expected it.

Muncie appeared to conclude the same, her jaw tilted in a thoughtful pout. Perhaps his imagination was more vivid than she realized. It wasn't unlike him to focus entirely on his work without batting an eye, or practice the same chord over and over until his muscle memory grew flawless, or design some technological gadget to fill in the blanks of Buddy's vision. The ferret's intense obsession with the need to keep his attention occupied had become a trait they had all grown accustomed to, though she now wondered if such actions were meant to keep invading thoughts away. All nighters were an occurrence everyone experienced at least once in their life.

Darnell had pulled enough for three life times, at least.

It hadn't concerned her before, but a well rested mind was a well abled mind.

"It's just a dream, sugar." she reminded softly, poking the side of his head playfully so, "Must be all that overload you're givin' your brain. Give it a little break from time to time. Let your nerves recupe."

The very suggestion of it seemed to offend him as he grew rigid, ears flattening.

Nerves recupe?

A break from the very high that got his blood pumping? Only few things managed to achieve said state, and he could proudly count them on his hand. Race day, bro time, zombie movies, dodging Cannonball…

His heavy brow lifted lightly at her calm gaze, a tiny smile curling.

...And an affectionate hug or two.

"I love that kinda stuff." he admitted sheepishly with a shrug, "It doesn't scare me."

Her arched brow answered him with stony doubt.

"Besides," he added, "It's not like it's a constant dream. It's like a...sixty percent dream. The other half is like, music and other stuff."

The mechanic's simple shrug bypassed any of his critical concern, steadying the table when Muncie adjusted her lean against it, "Darnell...that's every other dream. You can't tell me you're gettin' any good rest like that. You need a break." she stated matter of factually, the back of her paw falling flatly into the palm of her other.

His bottom jaw clicked to the side as he arched his brow with a simple shrug, brushing his arm off, "Not really worried about it, Muncie; I'm used to it by now."

"You need a _break_." she repeated stiffly, and his smile diminished at her tone, hands curling as they puzzled before him.

"You're…You're _serious_?...I just got a new release!" he whimpered wearily, sudden desperation filling his beady little eyes. Her arms crossed sternly as they did whenever she was unwavering, a trait often earning her some stick in the mud comment by her cousin, but Darnell was well aware of Muncie's body language. The ferret respected her opinions, and if he wanted to keep sharing in them, it was probably best to honor her advice.

It was easy for Buddy to ignore her and carry on as he pleased, but Darnell just couldn't find the drive to do so. There was something about her he really liked, and whether it was her curiosity in the paranormal or her determination to make something work in her restaurant, he couldn't help but be quietly fascinated with every little detail she had to offer. He thumbed along the edge of the table, shoulder slumped in as he pressed his side against it, "I was looking forward to us watchin' it..."

It was quiet for a moment, and he spoke before she managed to, eyes focused on his fidgety paws rather than anything else, "You just, get it, you know? It's the one thing Buddy and I try to see eye to eye on...but we just...don't. I've always loved that junk, even as a kid." he lightly chuckled, though it seemed to die in his throat, squeezing along his thumb, "...It's the one thing you're never too busy for."

Her firm gaze wavered ever so slightly, knowing there was some truth to that, and it was nothing she could blame him for. Her life in particular came with many hard turns and detours, and Darnell had always been careful to mind all signs and directions, though there was still much to learn. Things she wasn't quite ready to share yet with anyone...though already had passed the days were she had pondered how such fun facts were to be presented and with whom. Darnell was slowly climbing the list of need to know basis...but not today and not now.

As of now, she was simply Muncie, and he seemed to enjoy her as she was. She took comfort in knowing that honesty, especially when he pleadingly pined for her companionship, regardless if her cousin was around or not. She was not a back up nor a default, and it tugged on her guilt strings just a little bit each day knowing she owed him more time than she offered, but she was firm on her decisions. Her goals first, and all else after. But if she managed to play her cards right, it wouldn't be long before the mechanic himself became a different kind of goal...if he wasn't already.

Her quiet thoughts were mistaken for a dismissal, and the ferret ran his fingers along the table, straightening up with a gentle finger, "Just this one, and then we'll lay off the stuff for...a while." he offered with a cheesy grin, unsure of how long to measure that length of time, but it was less definitive than a select date or time. She eyed him decisively, a smug smile curling along her muzzle, "We? I'm not the one havin' nightmares about the stuff."

"Y'know, if I knew tellin' you that stuff was gunna backfire in my face..." he muttered, leaving the rest of the statement to bake in the echo of the garage, though couldn't help but notice her grin had only grown. "Don't worry, sugar," she chuckled, elbowing him playfully, "You can tell me anythin'." Rubbing his shoulder where she had made contact, the ferret huffed, scrunching his nose, "I dunno about all that." His paw slid off with a silent snap, pointer casually aimed toward her, "You wouldn't watch a zombie flick without me, though."

Arching a brow, the hound shrugged at the confidence in his words, "I dunno. If I'm swappin' channels and it's on, I might."

His tease fell sour, fumbling along his knuckles quietly.

"But...that's our thing." he muttered, slumping in on himself against the table. It didn't take long for her to slump along side him, head tucked between her shoulders as her elbows supported her, "It's a weird thing to have." she muttered back, tilting her head slightly toward him.

His brows knit for a moment, and he arched one, glancing at her, "Never bothered you before."

"Who said it bothers me now?"

The mechanic held a small smile, pleased with her tone and understanding, her yearn to please his interests. Rubbing along his neck, he offered a sheepish grin, cheeks flushing ever so lightly, "I could, uh...go for another of those zombie hugs right about now."

She furrowed her forehead with a scoff, "You couldn't handle the first one."

"I'm prepared now." he uttered softly, arms gently resting out at his sides. She took a deep breath at his collected calm, rolling her eyes with a snort when he added, "Self sacrifice."

The hound sighed, and his smile faltered only a smidgen, the warmest grin curled when she wove herself within his grip, her muzzle nuzzling along his neck before resting her brow against his, "You are so weird, Fetzervalve."

Nothing odd between them, nor strange. Plainly simple. It could have been fun and silly and joking. But she didn't want that right now.

Right now, it was just she and he, as they were.

Her arms gently wound about his neck, shutting her eyes softly as he embraced her with the kind of gentility he always managed whenever it came to her very self, "Don't you change a thing." she whispered so very close, his ears twitched, a chill jolting through to the very tip of his tail, and it was only one of few times were he didn't mind it at all.

Their smiles kept in ignorant bliss, their distance (or lack thereof) teasing them into a bout of kissable temptation–

"Aw, gross. What'd I tell y'all about gettin' all _cuddly_ when I'm around?"

And like a spark had zapped him, Darnell released her immediately, ears inflamed and paws fumbling, "S-Sorry, Buddy!"

Brows flattening into a solid glare, she aimed her seethe at her cousin casually leaning on the hood of his truck, a sly grin carved along his jagged jaw. "Don't apologize for it." she growled, glower unwavering, " _He's_ the one creepin' around like a weirdo!"

Tapping his pointer on the hood, Buddy smirked, "Last I checked, I live here. I will come an' go as I please; right, Darnell?"

The ferret's eyes darted between them, holding his tongue for fear of any outcome he might trigger, "Uhh..."

Muncie stormed through regardless, pointing a threatening finger, "Well go find yourself someplace to go. Darnell an' I got a date with a zombie flick, an' three's a crowd."

Perking a tiny smile at the words, the ferret masked his sudden excitement as he glanced about the garage. Movie night was on.

Teasing grin falling to the side, the rat terrier groaned, "Man, _another_ one? Can't you two watch anythin' else?"

Crossing her arms bitterly, Muncie huffed, "Sure we could. But then _you'd_ tag along."

" _I_ am just lookin' out for my bro." Buddy noted defensively, "Makin' sure he's surroundin' himself with good folks who have best intentions an' not some soul suckin' she-devil."

Her glare narrowed when he grinned, offering a thumbs up to Darnell as he nodded his head toward her, "Good news, man. At least she lets you keep your soul."

Darnell offered a sheepish chuckle, relieved when she merely rolled her eyes, leaning back into the table once more.

"Alright," Buddy smiled, throwing a casual wave, "I'll leave you kids alone. Behave yourselves." The casual calmness in the dog broke for a millisecond as his eyes fell on the ferret, a firm gaze of otherworldly trust haunting his typically bright brown eyes before something nervously flickered in them, "I mean it."

Shoulders pulling down a bit, Darnell nodded briskly, "Absolutely, Buddy."

Offering them both a playful wink, the terrier waltzed his way out of the garage, leaving the atmosphere quiet and untouched.

Beady eyes peering toward her, Darnell remained silent as Muncie seemed to be mulling something over, her brows knit in annoyance. It wasn't often when the racer trapped them in a corner, but when he did, it always seemed to stew under her skin for a good minute. Darnell never took it personally. Family was family, after all. Buddy was simply looking out for her, regardless of how close he was with the apple of her eye. Muttering under her breath, her ears lifted when the ferret's voice broke through, soft and warm.

"You mean the world to him, you know."

Her hardened gaze morphed to distraction, eyes darting about before resting toward the side, knowing there was so much truth to his words, whether she was openly comfortable with it or not. She had always felt actions spoke louder than words, and just as she would do anything for her family, she was well aware that they would do anything for her without wasting time to think on it twice. Speaking about such a bond...well, it wasn't often when they did. At least, not with each other. It was just felt...and known...and accepted.

But hearing those words...being reminded?

It leveled her back to a world where competition didn't matter.

A world where her cousin's golden heart weighed most, and his empty head could be forgiven.

A shadow of a smile crossed her muzzle, her voice barely above a whisper, "Yeah...I know."

She was quiet for a moment, listening to her own heel crunching against the concrete, contemplating and complacent. Any longer and she wouldn't have much of a heel left. Her fist playfully pegged Darnell's arm, nodding her chin toward the TV, "Don't short change yourself, sugar. You're part of that world."

"Oh, I know that." he uttered cheekily, following her lead, "He's always got my back."

Settling herself in the nook of the old couch, Muncie propped her boots atop the coffee table, watching as he unpackaged the new case, cracking open the disk with a pop, "Mhm...an' he'll _break_ your back if you don't behave yourself."

Slipping the movie into the slot, the ferret grabbed the remote, jumping back into his usual spot beside her as he clicked everything on, "I will," he whined with a pout, a tiny smile growing when she curled up against him, tugging his arm over her shoulders. "Don't get me in trouble." he muttered, fumbling along the menu of the film as it loaded.

"Hey, _you're_ the one who agreed to his terms. 'Sides, it'd be a dang shame if I had to rearrange that pretty face of yours on account of you tryin' somethin' stupid." she uttered sweetly, both knowing rather well her strength was not to be undermined. But she had no true doubts concerning the good natured creature beside her. He had always been perfectly well mannered when it came to respecting her set boundaries, though she was quite certain her cousin had his own set of rules that he expected Darnell to adhere to. She shifted a sly smile, noticing the ferret had chosen to angle himself further against the armrest rather than toward her, his arm hooked along the back of the couch instead.

"Just wanna watch the movie..." he mumbled wearily, his truest intentions sprinkled within the purity of his words, and her gaze softened from her tease, resting her head gently into his shoulder. "I know you do, sugar." she acknowledged softly, looping her fingers within his as she tugged his arm back around her, and this time, he secured her comfortably, nestled within her clutch.

"This one, and then you take a break."

The tender smile that had grown across his muzzle flattened instantly, brows knitting.

"You were serious about that…?" he grumbled, wincing at the slight pinch she had tweaked along his wrist. A deal was a deal, and she was all business regardless of _who_ she was dealing with.

"Yeah, fine..." he huffed wearily, shaking his hand a bit. He needed that wrist in prime working condition.

"Don't look so sour, Darnell. It'll give you plenty of time to clear your head. Get some good rest." she noted contently with a chuckle, "Maybe you'll even be able to prepare for them zombie hugs."

The intro of the film had begun, actors' names flickering by as the soundtrack slowly gained momentum.

She lightly yawned, cozy and comfortable...wondering how she was going to manage without their usual movie night. Well...she supposed there were other things they could bond over…

Nothing else seemed as enticing, though. It brought him to life in a special way. Yes, it was a weird thing to have, but it was their thing, and she would have it no other way.

"Why would I want to?" he hummed thoughtfully, already entranced by the opening credit sequence, but her chest burst with tingles at the low vibration of his voice pressed against her ear, his words tempting, deliberate, and eager,

"I _like_ the suspense."

* * *

 _Author's Note: I think I started ten different short stories in this category already, but I've only managed to finish two so far. I do have Buddy Darnell bro ones, but the sappy junk just flows from my finger tips._

 _I love that Darnell's totally into the supernatural and it's a clear shout out to his voice over, Ted Raimi (the episode with the soul suckers/beavers an homage to Evil Dead). For those who don't know, he's played parts in Evil Dead 1 + 2, Army of Darkness, The Grudge, and a few others. I think he's in the Ash vs Evil Dead show now, too. He also voices Skoodge in Invader Zim (which is where I recognized his voice immediately after hearing it). **Anyway**. Zombie flicks are a favorite of mine, so this was fun to write. _


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